Friday, December 3, 2010

Ballerina

Two friends, Layla and ShylaTalking, laughing, website designsDrinks, parties, sweets, laptop and then

Layla asked ShylaSo, what about him?Shyla said, I let him goLayla asked, why?

Shyla with a twinkle in her eye...

I planted the flowers they were pretty but not enoughThe flowers next door were gorgeous

Everyday I walked up the hill, barefootTo be with my beloved, in my brokenessWhen I got tired, I tried to hold his hand so I will not fallAhhh...but I forget, he is already up the hill, looking down at meOne day, I fell while walking up the hillI started to crawl, I became hungry and thirstyPerhaps my beloved would come to get meI crawled till my palms bled and my knees bruisedMy beloved did not come

In my brokeness, I cannot cage a bird that wants to flyIn my brokeness, I still want to hear the bird singIf not near, from afarAt least I can still dance when I hear the music

I am the ballerina who bows out gracefully after the dance...So tell me, did I do my turns right?How was my foot work?Will you clap for me?